


Come With Me Now

by The Tinglenator (Misha_McCarthy)



Series: Supernatural One-Shots [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Demon Blood, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Drabble, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, F/M, Hurt Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, One Shot, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Short One Shot, Song Lyrics, Stressed Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misha_McCarthy/pseuds/The%20Tinglenator
Summary: Sam struggles to find meaning in anything amidst dealing with Dean's absence, after his brother is sent to Hell. One-shot set between seasons 3 and 4; follows lyrics to the KONGOS' song.
Relationships: Ruby/Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural One-Shots [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877215
Kudos: 6





	Come With Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly: Come With Me Now is a bop.  
> Secondly: I recommend listening to it before/while you read.  
> Thirdly: It's just a good song.

_Afraid to lose control_

_Caught up in this world_

He had never done a drug before. Sure, he’d thought about it a few times, but Sam wasn’t a cool enough kid to be offered those kinds of things. As he got older and focused even more on his studies, there had been no need to think about them. He was content with the idea of getting into a good college to learn the law and live a fulfilling life as opposed to drowning himself among delusions and people who gave themselves up for a certain substance.

It had never occurred to him that they could be this amazing.

When he first tried it, that- that was the best high. It was the most thrilling, empowering, rewarding experience. He’d been trying to recreate it ever since. Yes, Sam knew he was beginning to rely on demon blood for the kick once in a while. But Ruby was more than willing to give it to him, so the desires never caused a problem.

The first time that Ruby mentioned doing such a thing, he was disgusted. It was worse than the idea of drinking human blood. He had no way of knowing what it would do, nor how his body might react to something infused with… magic. A demonic magic. But Ruby had been right there, cutting her own arm and insisting with quiet, thoughtful words that it was fine. Well, he could certainly tell you it was better than fine.

There were no hallucinations, for one. His mind felt cleared and his thoughts formed quickly, concisely. He always worked the job better after taking a sip. Emotions drifted away the more he took at one time. They were always accessible, but at the same time, so much easier to push aside and forget about. It freed him from everything.

Especially Dean.

_I’ve wasted time, I’ve wasted breath_

_I think I’ve thought myself to death_

He didn’t want to think about Dean, who was still in Hell, probably burning alive or something awful while _he_ was still on Earth, able to wake up every day and see sunlight, or drink coffee and put the Impala into gear. His imagination often supplied him with too many details about what Dean might be experiencing. Doing all he could just didn’t feel like enough, and probably never would- at this point, he wanted to forget. Forget everything. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it was better than _remembering_ those screams as the hellhounds ripped him apart and shredded his innards.

When Ruby left, he was forced to remember. His mind’s eye wouldn’t stop producing imagery of Dean’s frightened gaze as he stared down invisible beasts. Sam couldn’t forget burying his older brother, no matter how much he wished he could.

So when Ruby would leave, there was nothing else to be done. He was rarely anywhere near powerful enough to tangle himself up in a demon hunt. Those were the times he did all he could to find a way of getting Dean out of hell. There was no other way to combat the ideas that flooded him every time the demon blood finished running its course. Every damn time he sought information on Hell, demons, the whole nine yards, it felt fruitless. And it always turned out to be so. Ruby would return from whatever business she needed to tend to, and he’d help the world in a way they both knew proved effective.

He felt selfish whenever he strayed away from possible leads. Every _second_ down there for Dean would be the worst thing imaginable, and he wasn’t doing anything to save him.

He also felt dumb in the process of searching for his 300th solution. Other people needed saving too, right? Hadn’t Dean wanted him to continue hunting?

Saving his brother felt more impossible with each hour that passed.

_I was born without this fear_

_Now only this seems clear_

_I need to move, I need to fight_

_I need to lose myself tonight_

Sam could remember so many times in which he had found himself in trouble, and only Dean was able to draw him out. Granted, there were also quite a few times where Dean had leaned on him for support, but most often it was the other way around- just how Dean liked it.

His elder brother had brought him out of the fire as a baby. He’d broken the faces of multiple kids at school and even replied to a few drunk calls from when he was at college. That was just how Dean worked. They both watched each other’s backs, knowing that a hunt was incredibly dangerous no matter how many times they fought vampires, but he had never truly needed to worry about Dean. Not like this. His brother had played the game cool so many times now, maybe even _he_ fell for a lot of it.

The experiences he drew on most were memories of when Dean managed to get himself electrocuted, and his time loop. During the first scenario he’d done as much research as possible, limited only by the amount of time he could stay awake and the resources available in a realistic radius. All of that had been resolved easily enough with the “faith healer”. The Trickster’s time loop was a different matter. Each day, it became his responsibility to keep Dean from dying while his elder brother enjoyed the same breakfast and the same jokes, utterly oblivious to things most of the time. It hadn’t taken long for it to become a chore that he knew couldn’t be completed, so he’d focused his time on getting out of the loop instead. The months following the Wednesday Dean died- that was very comparable to now.

He hadn’t done so well.

That had been his first resolution after he lugged Dean’s body out of the house and burned the Impala’s tires as he floored it all the way to Bobby’s: he would never do the things he’d done after Dean’s death from the Trickster. Whatever it took to avoid going down such a dark road, he’d do.

The glass bottle seemed to be laughing in his face. It was the only answer he’d found in this sea of lies and loneliness.

So he put the beer to his lips and took a nice, long swig. He needed something stronger.

_Woah, come with me now_

_I’m gonna take you down_

_Woah, come with me now_

_I’m gonna show you how_

Dean was the elder between the brothers. He’d been the first to hunt, the first to drive, drink, lop off a vampire’s head… and so, naturally, he also became Sam’s guide. An instructor, almost. Sam used to look up to him for nearly everything. Going on hunts was just another one of those times in which Dean commonly took the lead. There’d hardly been any occasions when he had to call all the shots himself.

Now, that’s all he ever did. Come up with a plan today, come up with a plan for tomorrow, decide to trust Ruby on one subject or another. The responsibility was weighing down on him worse than the last time Dean went to hell for months. Sam knew he was truly on his own at this point. He was supposed to combine Dean’s crazy, macho-man instinct and his own methodical approach into one cohesive human being. It just wasn’t going to work. He _loathed_ hunting alone.

That’s when Ruby came back from “far, far away”. She never really explained what Lilith did to her. As soon as he breached the subject, she made it clear that it was off-limits. There were a lot of things he couldn’t, and would never, talk to Ruby about. The feeling seemed mutual. Their relationship was business-style: they come into contact at fairly regular intervals, assist each other, and move on. No emotional dump, no drunk meets, no spur-of-the-moment sex. Neither of them fully trusted the other. Ruby helped him become more powerful, and at some point he would return the favour by killing Lilith. Not just exorcising, but killing. Ruby said as much.

_I think with my heart and I move with my head_

_I open my mouth and it’s something I’ve read_

_I’ve stood at this door before, I’m told_

_But part of me knows I’m growing too old_

Books. Computer. Bobby.

It was all just as helpful as it had been last time. Hours upon hours spent pouring over old mythology and the original scripts of the Bible became hours wasted. There was no way to save an innocent soul. He couldn’t go to Hell, and Ruby scoffed at the idea of breaking Dean out. He’d stayed with Bobby for a small while, but it was plain to see that it was hopeless. It was impossible to think straight in the house both him and Dean developed a lot of memories. He didn’t need any prompts. His mind perpetually brought up where Dean was in the mornings whenever he woke up, and each time his head hit the pillow to try and sleep. Sometimes he wished the reminders could just leave him the fuck alone. He was no good to anyone, anymore. What was the point of his brain constantly nagging at him when he couldn’t do anything to save Dean?

**What was the damn point?**

He’d told his brother that if he did go to Hell, the only way he could make it was by turning into Dean. So far that had turned into a miserable failure. He hadn’t run off, brutalizing every demon in sight until he found someone important enough to scream at. Instead, he’d turned to the books. Sam read everything three times over, knowing that he had to be missing some piece of lore somewhere. It didn’t matter what Ruby told him. There had to be something out there, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t able to find it.

Or, Dean would be damned. Forever.

His eyes scoured pages, physical and digital, for hours on end. As soon as Ruby left for a while he would be focused on another article of text; he’d be reading until each word quadrupled and turned colour and swam from the middle to the edges of his vision and finally, not even his subconscious could compile all of the information into something useful.

It’s funny how he was always the researcher, and yet when he needed some info the most, he couldn’t find it. After all his years of helping Dean cheat through his essays, memorizing obscure laws, and digging through the internet to find viable sources about monsters, he was completely useless now. He was worthless. Dean was probably riding on the hope that his geek brother would be able to whip something together and get him out of Hell. With every second that passed, he was failing Dean. And the seconds kept ticking on.

_Confused what I thought with something I felt_

_Confused what I feel with something that’s real_

_I tried to sell my soul last night_

_Funny, he wouldn’t even take a bite_

Sam let his emotions get the best of him more often than not.

Sam was wasted at every spare minute.

Sam repeated what he’d done the first time, after over a hundred Tuesdays and a very, very real Wednesday.

He couldn’t understand it. The demons’ big plan was dead. Lilith wanted her power, and she would certainly have it if he ended up in a gutter somewhere. Didn’t all crossroads demons work for Lilith? Didn't they all have her best interest at heart?

So why in God’s name couldn’t he trade Dean’s place for his own? Why couldn’t he make one quick, simple deal and let it all be over with? He would much prefer going to Hell than staying in this sort of limbo, unwillingly imagining the unknown horrors Dean might be going through at this moment. He would _much_ prefer going to Hell than stuck in this autopilot-like state, constantly drunk or on demon blood or somewhere in between and never feeling like he was alive. He was just… there, doing what he normally does and failing all the while. His head throbbed from dehydration, his heart ached from the things he sought to forget about. Events that happened five minutes ago blended with the things he had done last week.

He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to wake up to this anymore.

_Far away_

_I heard him say_

_Don’t delay_

_I heard him say_

Dean needs him. Dean’s going through torture and he’s incapable of doing **one damn thing**.

_Woah, come with me now_

_I’m gonna take you down_

_Woah, come with me now_

_I’m gonna show you how_

Ruby had managed to eventually pull him out of his mental pit. She’d given him something productive to do, and even something to look forward to. He might not be closer to saving Dean, but at least he wasn’t utterly wasting the life Dean had allotted him in place of his own.

And the things he looked forward to?

It was much more than demon blood. It was her hands running him up and down, her soft lips grazing his rough cheeks. It was _her_ , every inch of her.

When she stopped by, Sam felt like he was over the moon. He was free from impersonation and faking what he felt. He was done sitting around, trying to save Dean when it was impossible. When Ruby came to see him, it was Heaven on Earth.

He didn’t care if that didn’t make any sense, being that she was a demon.

He didn’t care about anything.


End file.
